


Over and Yet

by kho



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mind Control, Mindfuck, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5302832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kho/pseuds/kho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s over.  Over.  And yet.</p><p>(Set post season 1 of Netflix series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over and Yet

He’s gone.  He is. He’s gone, I snapped his neck. I felt it snap in my fingers. I saw the life end. I know he’s dead this time because I’m the one that did it, and yet.

It’s over.  Over. And yet.

His voice.  His breath. The accent.

_Smile for me, Jessica.  Sit down, Jessica. Hop on one foot, Jessica. Higher.  Higher.  As high as you can go._

_They’re boring me, Jessica.  Make them shut up._

_Undress for me, Jessica.  Slowly, like you want this.  You do want this. Tell me yes.  Tell me you want me.  Tell me you yearn for me.  Tell me again. Tell me until I tell you to stop._

_Don’t leave Jessica.  Never leave. You can never leave._

_Watch me fuck her, Jessica.  Like it. Don’t even blink._

_End him, Jessica._

Like now that it’s over, now that it’s done, its only more real. This PTSD shit is fucking retarded because it’s fucking over but I feel him more now then I ever did. In my head, he’s there, smirking, taunting.

So. Whiskey.  Whiskey, and whiskey, and whiskey until I can pass out. Luke looking at me like I shoud be over this now.  Like I should be past this now.  And shouldn’t I?

Or maybe it’s more like this: I’m fucking broken, and I always will be, so stop looking around for the glue and the staples and love me with my limbs twisted. Why don’t you stop looking at me like I’m falling down the hole and just join me already or go away.

They say it gets worse before it gets better, so I better be shitting some rainbows real soon here.

Trish says I never dealt before, I never faced it before, so that’s why it’s worse now that it’s over.  I’m looking down at the scars and not pretending they’re papercuts anymore.

She says I’ll come out the other end stronger and better and more whole than I ever was, but I just think I’ll come out the end hungover and ready to drink again.

And that’s why it’s worse now, if I’m being honest, because there’s this tiny little piece of me.  This tiny little piece of me I haven’t had since before he came into my life.  This piece of me that says maybe.

Maybe she’s right.  Maybe I can be whole again. Maybe I can be happy. Hope.  Hope’s the real mind fucker here.  It was better when I was just resigned to being the piece of shit I was.

Or not.

At least now I’m getting laid regular.


End file.
